


Chasing Sunsets

by melissen



Category: Top Gun (1986)
Genre: Cannon, Gay, M/M, Romance, also Hollywood/Wolfman, slowly building romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-13
Updated: 2013-04-21
Packaged: 2017-12-08 09:45:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 16,493
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/759955
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/melissen/pseuds/melissen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Iceman x Maverick SLASH yaoi </p><p>Scorching sun and the roar of jets in the air. Sixteen new recruits young enough to know everything, and fear nothing, filled with high hopes and living the highlight of their lives; making all their dreams come true. High school heroes and collage jocks. Brave and confident, ready to take on the world. </p><p>Cannon following mostly what happens in the movie, but concentrates on Maverick and Iceman, showing how they misinterpret that tension that makes their blood boil. They don't even notice when the fierce rivalry brings them much closer than they would want. Slowly building romance from hate to love/ and some hot gay sex.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> English-still not my first language! Stry is UNBETAED!
> 
> While writing I was using the movie script, and of course, the movie, but only where I decided that it fits my story. As a soundtrack I strongly recommend TOP GUN soundtrack, especially Top Gun Anthem by Harold Faltermeyer & Steve Stevens and (for the volleyball scene at least) Playing with the boys by Kenny Loggins – the gayest song ever! There's also Kenny Loggin's Danger Zone and of course Mighty Wings by Cheap Trick, 'cause there's no points for second best!

**MOJAVE DESERT – April 13, 1985**

Black and red Ninja speeding down the long road roared almost as loud as the jets ripping through the sky above. Like one hot headed pilot would say: this was need – need for speed; A condition incurable at young age.

The driver's had was low, almost touching the handlebars with the Aviator shades to minimize any air resistance. He was trying to ignore his passenger's fingers gripping the sides of his leather jacket just a little bit tighter with each turn.

Maverick pushed forward, adding even more fire to the engine. How fast would it go with Goose's fat ass slowing it down? How much power could he add before the engine explodes?

He didn't get the chance to find out as the sound of a siren reached his ears.

Slowing down was no fun at all.

Clouds of dust were settling slowly down for miles back and Maverick wanted to smirk knowing that he was there just mere seconds ago. The machine between his jeans clad thighs was slowly cooling off hissing softly in disappointment at the disrupted fun.

White bike with the California Highway Patrol sign stopped on the side slightly behind them. Maverick jumped off his ninja and stood at attention, while Gosse just stood back awkwardly shuffling his feet, not sure what to do. It really sucked. They didn't even reach San Diego and they already got into trouble.

"Son. Do you know why I stopped you?" CHP was an older guy clearly not dealing well with the overwhelming heat of the desert.

"Yes sir. I do sir."

Maverick had some good idea how to deal with authority, especially when he was in trouble. The cop adjusted his own Aviator shades wondering what to do with the troublesome youth. 

"Well... What is it?"

Maverick puffed out his chest and answered sincerely.

"Sir. You are going to give me a warning, Sir!"

It was hard not to smile at the young man's impressive poise, but the law was the law.

"License and registration."

Maverick handed the documents over together with his Navy ID. The cop scanned it for a moment with clear interest and growing respect.

"Lieutenant, do you know how fast you were going?"

Maverick didn't hesitate to answer. "Yes sir. I do, Sir."

"Well?"

"Sir. I was going Mach point one five."

CHP nodded sagely. "One SIXTH the speed of sound!"

"Yes sir."

"Lieutenant... What do you... usually fly?"

The kid had to be a pilot, right? He looked like one, and not only because of the jacket. It was something else, something in his temper, or something in his eyes….

"F-14's sir."

"Tomcats?"

"Yes sir!"

So what was this kind of speed to this young soldier? It was like telling a grown up that running through the corridors is dangerous.

"Lieutenant... Is there... a Russian attack?"

"No sir! But you have to be ready."

The cop smiled and escorted them right up to the gates of Miramar Naval Air Station.

"Lieutenant!"

"Yes, Sir?"

"Remember one thing. Outside of this gate... I...am Top Gun."

**Marine Corps Air Station Miramar - April 13, 1985**

Hot day, scorching sun and the roar of jets in the air. Sixteen new recruits young enough to know everything, and fear nothing, filled with high hopes and living the highlight of their lives; making all their dreams come true. High school heroes and collage jocks. Brave and confident, ready to take on the world.

Which little boy doesn't dream to become a jet pilot? How many follow through with their dreams?

Those who did and made it - dream about Top Gun.

They want to be the best and prove it. This was what they lived for, their big chance, a huge step toward the  _future,_  even if the word didn't actually mean much to them just yet. Because nothing but HERE and NOW mattered. Eight weeks among the best of the best. With  _everything_ to prove.

The first day - everything around being new, interesting and exciting; the day to meet their rivals, face them and see if they meet your expectations; find out what they're made of. With bright eyes shining with curiosity, chests puffed up with pride and youthful arrogance, they couldn't wait for it all to  _finally_  start. Just waiting could set them on fire of their own excitement!

Or maybe it was just Maverick being like that…?

Goose seemed to be so much cooler about the whole thing... It slightly irritated Pete that his friend could act so calm while he himself couldn't stop fidgeting and taking everything in with hungry eyes. He almost craned his neck trying to asses every guy in the stuffy room. They were all like him, young and hopeful; wanting to prove themselves more than anything else.

Some of them looked bored, some amused, and some seemed to challenge everyone who dared to look in their direction.

That's how Pete Mitchell figured out who's his main rival.

He was blond and tanned with sharp jaw bones and piercing blue eyes that were boring holes in Pete. He could practically feel them on the back of his head even after he turned around and tried to talk to his RIO. The blond looked like he owned the place and, even though Peter was anything but self conscious, this guy's staring made him feel litte uncomfortable. The asshole was really annoying, playing with a pen and looking so… stoic and cool, like he wasn't excited at all. Stupid prick.

Maverick often envied people who were able to keep their cool. He was a loose cannon all his life and it got him into trouble practically every day. That blond looked like he never did anything but perfect. He even sat too straight, like had an icicle stuck up his ass.

When another pair of eyes glared at him angrily Pete finally stopped staring, because _that_  guy was even taller than the cold bastard and had his arm around the blond's shoulders – not actually hugging but clearly showing others to back off. Mitchell was pretty sure it was the blond's RIO because they were all new in there and stuck close to their flying partners.

Jester started the lecture, while Maverick studied the rest of his class, unsuccessfully trying to ignore the dirty looks he was receiving from the aforementioned duo. To his left sat a pair of rather friendly looking guys, enjoying each other's closeness probably more openly than they should have.

"It gives me a hard on…" The smaller of the two – Wolfman - was very attractive and had an addictive smile topped with a cheerful personality. He looked at his friend with a bedroom eyes.

"Don't tease me…" The other one – call sign Hollywood - was calmer and seemed kind of lazy. Pete was pretty sure he would get along with them just fine. Actually, the two looked like they would get along with everybody.

Finally the door opened and officers walked in, led by the Viper – the best pilot of the U.S. Navy. That was it. It was real. It was about to start now and nothing would be the same from now on, ever.

They were in Top Gun.

"You're the elite, the best of the best. We're gonna make you better, because your job is damned important."

It may sound silly but they came here to hear just that! Hell, they  _lived_ to hear that!

"With the tensions in the world today, the potential for confrontation is greater than ever, and carrier pilots will be the first ones there. Air combat excellence is vital."

Viper continued his speech. All eyes trained on him except one pair of icy blues. Those never moved from Maverick's smaller form.

"...Someone once asked me if training men for air combat made the world less safe - flying loaded guns... an accidental confrontation and so forth..."

Maverick couldn't stand that anymore. It was like poking him in the back of his head. He turned to return the glare and his eyes were immediately locked with the blond's. His stomach tightened. Now he was sure. This really was his rival. Those other guys didn't count. The next eight weeks would be about him and this blond bastard grinning at him with his perfect set of pearly whites. Maverick wanted to smirk back but somehow couldn't. It was a challenge and he was all for it, but just at that particular moment he felt kind of sick and couldn't smile, even if it wasn't going to be sincere. Guess all the excitement made his head spin a bit too much. He tried to concentrate on Viper's words.

"My answer is: the dangerous thing is being unprepared. You want trouble, that's what you get when things don't work out, when you can't do what you say you can. When you don't know what you can do. And when your opponents aren't sure either. We are not policy. We don't make policy. Elected officials ...civilians, do that. We are the instrument of policy. The tip of the spear. So we had best be sharp."

Pete  _was_ sharp! And he sure as hell knew what he could do. Everything! He was the best and he couldn't wait to rub it in the blondy's perfect stupid face. Goose nudged his arm.

"Turn around and pay attention. What are you doing?" Maverick smirked at his best friend. "...Just wondering... who is the best."

Unexpectedly the Viper caught his words and smiled.

"Really... Ya know. We'd like to know who's best too. That's why we've got that plaque on the wall... with the top Top Gun crew from each class. You think maybe your name's gonna be on it?"

"Yes, Sir." Let this be his answer to the blond bastard's challenge.

"Considering the company you're in, that's a pretty arrogant attitude."

"Yes, Sir." The rest of the class reacted rather strongly. Some guys laughed other looked pissed.

"I like that in a fighter pilot. It's okay to be confident. You have to think you're King Kong to want to try to land on carriers. Just keep in mind the other component of success...teamwork."

"Yes sir." Maverick confirmed, though less enthusiastically, since he knew that the teamwork wasn't actually his forte.

"Gentlemen, this is about combat. Remember, there are no points for second place. Dismissed."

Some of them jumped out of their seats and run straight to the plague to read the names of the best and imagine their own engraved on the next coppery stripe; Goose among them, already fooling around with Wolman and Hollywood. Maverick didn't care about the plague. It was nothing. Being the best was everything. No points for the second place.

WEDNESDAY NIGHT

The club was crowded and more than a half of guests there were soldiers, marines; at least every fourth dressed in white uniforms, drinking and flirting with the local girls. Maverick was right about the pair of guys from his classes. Hollywood and Wolfman were really great. So was Chipper - rather calm guy with black hair and pretty face. They were drinking and having fun because starting tomorrow they would have no time to waste.

Pete's eyes were trained on Iceman. The cold bastard still looked absolutely impeccable. He stood straight and tall, seemingly completely sober, with some girls swarming around him, full of smiles. But he stayed completely indifferent and calm, with just a small courteous smile twisting his pink lips. Maverick truly hated the guy. And it's not like he didn't have a reason for that! Tom Kazansky was obviously picking on him. He did everything he could think of just to piss off Maverick, and the ease with which he managed to do it, was grating on the brunette's nerves. It was generally not very hard to piss Pete Mitchell, but still Kazansky took it to the whole new level, simply with the way he was looking, or smiling… He was driving Pete crazy with just the simple fact he was there. And like it was not enough Goose decided to make it worse by taunting Slider – Iceman's stupidly tall RIO.

"I thought you wanted to be a pilot."

Slider answered in stride: "Whose butt did you kiss to get here?"

"The list is long but distinguished."

"So is my johnson"

It seemed that it was the opening that Kazansky had been waiting for to come up and introduce himself; or more like made Goose introduce them all.

"Tom, this is Pete Mitchell. Pete, this is Tom Kazansky."

They shook hands. Tom's grip was strong. Pete was pretty sure that his own was stupidly weak for some reason. Kazansky was taller him (everybody was) and he was moving with this sort of calculated manner that could only be called elegance or maybe even dignity. He didn't quite fit there, among normal guys and it made Maverick wonder if he was maybe from some rich family and played piano since he was four…. Tom was perfectly calm and he was smiling, albeit insincerely, at the shorter man when he politely started a conversation. Maverick could feel the cold minty breath on his face. How come the bastard's breath was minty when he was drinking? Or maybe he wasn't? Maybe he was one of those pricks who only pretend to drink? Was Iceman really such a sissy?

"Congratulations on Top Gun." Even though he didn't say anything special the way he spoke seemed somehow sophisticated.

"Thank you." Maverick didn't want to smile so stupidly but his face tended to do that when he was nervous.

"I'm sorry to hear about Cougar. You know, we were kind of like brothers in flight school. He was a good man."

"Still is a good man." Cougar and Mav were rivals and liked to tease each other and banter but they were also great friends and Iceman's words just weren't right.

"That's what I meant." The blond man reached down over the counter, getting uncomfortably closer to the brunette. It put Pete's nerves on edge until he realized that Iceman was only reaching for some peanuts….

"… thought so…" Mitchell took a swing of his beer to busy himself with something.

"So, you need any help?" Iceman put his hands on his hips, and leaned over Maverick, slightly tilting his head to one side.

"With what?" Ice was too close, invading Maverick's personal space and Pete hated himself for not being able to just tell him off or push him away. He didn't want to make a scene and make a fool of himself in front of other guys. But, shit, why was he so nervous? Not that he didn't have a good reason to be! This guy was trying to intimidate him and he was doing it in a really fucking annoying way. And weird as hell. He clearly enjoyed making Maverick squirm and his eyes seemed to say: "You have no idea how much!"

"Did you figure it out yet?" Could this smile be any wider it would split Ice's head in two.

"What's that?" Mverick WASN'T blushing!

"Who's the best pilot."

"No, I think I can figure that one out on my own." Another dazzling smile... What was with this guy and those smiles...?

"I heard that about you. You like to work alone."

Aaaaaaaaaaaaaand that moment - was awkward.

Iceman's blinding smile was gone and he was now studying Maveick's face from the proximity he could probably see the pores in his skin. His eyes were flicking from Pete's one eye to the other, and then quickly to his tightly pressed lips. The brunet wanted to moisten them but it would probably made the situation even weirder and he was already ridiculously nervous. He fidgeted in his spot and didn't know what to do or how to act. He wanted to play tough, obviously, but he was leaning over the side of the counter while Kazansky was towering over him with his stupidly toned body and assessing gaze, and he was cutting off Peter's escape route. Not that Maverick wanted to escape the situation, he just… didn't want to be pinned to the counter by this guy. It was... well... irritating.

Finally Slider cut their weird 'moment' with more stupid taunting. He was also glaring accusingly at Mitchel though Pete had no idea what this was all about. When Slider dragged the Iceman away Maverick sighed with relief. Now he needed to relax and have fun, and apparently Goose had exactly the same idea in mind.

"Okay, it's my turn, isn't it? Okay, the bet is  _twenty dollars_."

"Twenty dollars." Maverick repeated as a form of acceptance.

"Okay, you have to have carnal knowledge – with a LADY this time – on the premises."

Maverick smiled remembering this one time when he did a guy at the bar to win a bet. It was crazy. He was drunk and horny and the boy was cute and willing. He didn't do it because there was no girls around, though that was his excuse back then, but simply because he wanted to try it. It felt good, much tighter and warmer than a girl. After that he realized that there were many more things he maybe should have try but after sobering up he concentrated on forgetting about those ideas rather than exploring them. So, now he did the same and looked around in search of a potential target that would earn him twenty bucks. His eyes slid over the Iceman chatting with some guys in a corner. The man was looking right back at him. Weird bastard.

TBC...


	2. Chapter 2

**Marine Corps Air Station Miramar - April 14, 1985**

With the blood in their veins hotter that that Californian sun sitting through the 45 minutes of lectures, while their jets waited outside the hangar, was as excruciating as going through puberty. It seemed like forever. Maverick wanted to finally fly!

Chipper was trying to not fall asleep in his seat behind Maverick's back. He was putting his shades on and then took them off, like he couldn't decide what annoyed him more, the sun or the dark shade? He felt sick and nothing helped. To be honest, Mitchell had a hangover too… They all had. Only Iceman seemed as prim and proper as ever. And – also as ever – he was staring. He was wearing a blue polo under his suit and it somehow matched his cold blue eyes. What kind of guy picks his clothes like that? He put his shades on, even though he didn't have bloodshot eyes like the rest of them. He probably just wanted to hide the fact that he WAS once again staring at Maverick. Pete could feel his eyes on the back of his neck burning like an F14's exhaust.

Chipper liked to sit directly behind Mitchell on practically every classes. He would yawn or doodle not even pretending to pay attention. It was nice to have him around. If he wasn't there then Hollywood and Wolfman were. Mitchell was pretty happy with his class; they were all mostly cool guys; even if they liked Tom Kazansky.

When the chick he was hitting on the night before turned out to be their civilian consultant specialist Mitchell put his shades on too. Fuck! ...just his luck.

It was nice to show off for a bit, talking about his stunt with MiG. Maverick loved those moments. He loved the attention and impressed looks of his colleagues, and Charlie's. He wanted to turn around to see Kazansky's expression but decided against it when he heard the clear "Bullshit!" poorly covered by a cough.

He wanted to punch this asshole. It didn't even matter anymore that Charlie confirmed his story if front of everyone. He didn't care. He was too pissed. He wanted to impress that fucking asshole more than anything but Iceman didn't even give him a chance. Mitchell started to suspect it may be personal, because Tom wasn't such a dick to anyone else in the group. So what the fuck was his problem?

Finally the lecture ended and they were about to get to their planes, but when he was passing the stairs his heart jumped to his throat. Kazansky was sitting on the rail posing like some super model. He looked ridiculous. Maverick hoped he would be ignored but it seemed that it just wasn't his day. The fucker was waiting specifically for him.

"Maverick!"

Pete stopped and waited until Tom walked up to him.

"I'm curious, who was…. covering Cougar while you were taking pictures of that MiG…"

And that was one step too far. His day was shitty even without Kazansky getting into his face, but blaming HIM for what had happened to Cougar was just too fucking much! In the next second he was grabbing Tom's shirt pulling and yelling into his face that he should shut the fuck up because he obviously had no idea what had happened there. He took a swing but suddenly his wrists were pinned to the wall high above his head by a pair strong hands, and sharp edges of Kazansky's damned face were taking up his whole line of vision. His blood boiled. No one had a right to manhandle him! Especially not some blond super model trying to play a pilot! He struggled violently trying to yank himself free from Ice man's vicious clutches, but the bastard was not only taller but also stronger than him. It was so fucking frustrating!

"Coward!"

He spat the word into the face that was way too close for comfort from his own. Iceman didn't even frown. His ice cold minty breath was cooling off Maverick's burning face.

"I won't let you drag me into some childish fight, Maverick. You need to work on your temper."

"Fuck you!"

Kazansky chuckled sending a stronger wave of minty air over Peter's face. Mavrick's heart was trying to jump out of his chest. He couldn't remember when was the last time he was so angry. His hands may've been immobile but he still had his legs, so he tried to kick. Unfortunately all he gained from it was an amused chuckle. Then Iceman stepped on one of his feet, and slid his leg between Mitchell's, pressing closer. The brunet gasped, losing his footing. If not for the Iceman's hold he would probably slide to the floor. His whole body was shaking and for the first time since his father's death he actually wanted to cry.

"What the fuck do you want, Kazansky?!"

"Work on your complete lack of discipline. Do you really think that arriving here on the first day escorted by the police makes you look good? Makes Top Gun and us look good?"

"Who the fuck cares if you look good! The only thing that matters is how you fly!" And how the fuck did he know about the cop? Did he see them on that first day?

"And how do you fly, Maverick? You can't even follow simple orders! Do you think it's a game?"

"I fly the best I can and I do what I have to do to win. I don't give a shit about what your textbooks say about it. They don't mean anything while you're up there!"

"They mean a lot. You're just too stupid and too hot headed to use their knowledge so you improvise. You endanger yourself-… and others!"

"Kazansky! What the hell are you two doing?" Jester sounded rather curious more than actually angry.

Tom quickly pulled himself away from the shorter man but still refused to let him go completely. Fights were against the rules and he probably needed rules to even tie his shoes or he would have no clue how to do it. Maverick detested him. So, to pretend they didn't have a fight he let Ice drape his arm over his own smaller form and pull closer; much _too_ close. Jester didn't look convinced but also still didn't look angry. Pete could've swear that there was a small smirk pulling on the man's lips.

"I was just explaining to our dear loose cannon here how important is following the rules, Sir. That's all."

Maverick tried to yank out of the other man's hold but he didn't get any further than the arms' reach, so Kazansky still had a hold on him, embracing him from behind. Maverick's back was pressed tightly to Iceman's torso and the minty breath was now fanning his left ear. A subtle scent of Iceman's cologne hit his nostrils and even though Maverick would never use this kind of fragrance he had to admit it smelled good and refreshing, like an ocean breeze; like clean clothes and wet skin and also like…

"Good! Lieutenant Mitchell needs a lesson. Just no bloodshed!"

Kazansky chuckled again and did something unthinkable.

"Bloodshed? No way, Sir. We love each other." And he mockingly pecked Maverick's flushed cheek.

Peter froze. His vision blurred and he wasn't thinking anymore. He yanked himself out of other man's hold and walked away stumbling on air and bumping on walls.

**Marine Corps Air Station Miramar**

Finally their names appeared on their machines. This was the best chance to show Tom Kazansky who's the best! And it was almost easy to take that shot on Jester and it felt great to gloat later in the locker room. Wolfman was lying in the middle of the place on a bench with his legs spread invitingly and was blabbering on and on. The moment was perfect but very short lived because much too soon the icy duo stepped in, claiming the victory.

No points for the second place. Maverick had enough of being second. Second after Cougar, second after Ice… He came to Miramar to be the TOP!

"Below the hard deck. It doesn't count." Slider was right, but…

"Hard deck my ass!" …Maverick didn't care. "We nailed that son of a bitch!"

Breaking some rules didn't make their victory taste any less sweet.

"You really are cowboys…" Tom didn't care either. He was the winner and he couldn't care less about Maverick's childish gloating.

"What's your problem, Kazansky?!" But, still, pissing Mav off WAS fun, especially that it was so damn easy.

"You are everyone's problem. That's because every time you go up in the air you're UN-safe. I don't like you because you're dangerous."

And of course the idiot was stupid enough to take it as some sort of a compliment. He was a lost cause.

"That's right! Ice-man…" But when he was pissed he was getting that glint in his eyes, and when he was coming closer, just to hiss right into Tom's face, he looked… cute. Kind of…

"I AM dangerous." Maverick dusted Tom's shoulder from imagined dust and patted him. Why the fuck was he doing that? He was asking for trouble again, but Tom knew better than cause ruckus in the locker rooms, so he settled for a sarcastic smile and snapped his teeth, what earned him an, albeit nervous but wide, smile from Mitchell.

And then for the second time that day Jester interrupted their confrontation calling Maverick and Goose to be chewed up for not following the rules. Tom just smiled once more and patted Pete's shoulder in rather false encouragement.

 **Bachelor Officers' Quarters** **at Marine Corps Air Station Miramar - April 15, 1985**

Everybody thought that Tom Kazansky was uncaring and cold as ice. It wasn't true. He liked to play things safe exactly because he cared. You may call him an anal retentive control freak but so far his ways had never failed him.

Maverick was his complete opposite. He was a wild card, a dissenter unable to work with others. But what really scared Tom about the guy was that even though his methods were so wrong - read: different than Tom's - they were working too.

Had Maverick followed Stinger's order to land and left Cougar on his own, Billy's kid would probably be an orphan and Mrs. Cortell a widow.

But from the first glance, back then at the gates of their Station, with everything he did Mav rubbed Tom just the wrong way.

The urge to punish him, to discipline his wild bratty nature was forcing Iceman to act out of character and it irritated him even more than the man himself! It was kind of ridiculous. Normally no one and nothing could make him lose his cool, while Maverick did it with just a mere fact he existed.

The man was as intriguing as infuriating and the combination didn't sit right with Tom. He was impressed by the things Maverick did and he knew that the brunette is one really great pilot, but still couldn't bring himself to acknowledge and accept him. It made his gut twist to even think about it. At the same time the little prick was like a magnet. Tom couldn't pinpoint exactly what it was that made him completely unable to leave Maverick alone. He was actively seeking out any contact with the man he could get; fights mostly. He was looking for reasons to approach him, to fight him, and more than anything, to rile him up. It was so easy to make Maverick lose his temper but it was even better to watch as he tried to stay calm and just couldn't. He would blink rapidly, squirm and flush with anger. Iceman couldn't help but taunt him and provoke. It was all he could think about since he got up in the morning….

He already called Cougar twice to ask about Maverick and even though he was tempted to call one more time and learn about his stupid stunts to have more things to tease him about, he couldn't. Cougar was already making weird jokes that Iceman didn't like one bit.

When Maverick tried to hit him he was elated! It felt great to overpower him like that, keep him still, completely helpless. It made Tom's cold blood run faster and get warmer. Damn, it was fun. It could be his new hobby – disciplining Maverick, taming this wild creature. Maybe he should get himself a horsewhip for a good measure?

He had two chapters of the text book to read and analyze but for the life of him he couldn't concentrate. He was restless, lying shirtless on his bed over the text book and wondering what his self-proclaimed rival had been doing. He surely wasn't boring himself to death with any books - after all, he thought they were useless…

He was probably wasting time with that funny couple... Damn Maverick was drawing people to himself (Ice included) and they were coming like moths to his flame. He was burning bright and Iceman didn't like the thought of him burning out all too soon. Live fast and die young kind of guy.

He was too much fun to lose him so fast.

But what could Iceman do to stop him? Nothing… All reprimands would go over his head until someday it would be too late. Maverick was stubborn and childish and Iceman wondered if it was even possible to tame him, or if they would have to wait until the man simply grows up. Would Maverick even live long enough for that with the way he did things?

Doubtful.

Since he couldn't study, Iceman decided to get some fresh air, to clear his mind from any unwanted thoughts about the infuriating Pete Mitchell. He grabbed a white buttoned up shirt and put it on, along with his shoes and watch, his dog tags dangling beautifully in the wide opening of the unbuttoned top part, on his torso. When he left his quarter the heat hit him hard, so he rolled up the sleeves and put on his shades.

The sun setting lazily over the horizon made their jets look truly beautiful. He breathed in deeply the summer air and enjoyed the smell of fuel and melting tarmac mingled with an ocean breeze. He passed the hangars and walked slowly ahead with his hands in the pockets of his jeans admiring warm shades of heavy orange clouds .

Then, in the corner of his eye, he caught a sight of short black hair and his body tensed immediately. He didn't want to see Mitchell. He came here to forget about him and he wasn't in a mood for another confrontation.

But the figure wasn't moving like Maverick. This guy's moves were hesitant and uncertain. Tom took a better look and with as much relief as disappointment he recognized Chipper. He was acting rather strange fidgeting by the door to the garage, like he couldn't decide if he wanted to stand there and watch what was inside from that safe distance or just get in. Tom's curiosity was piqued but just as he was going to shout to the other pilot and ask what he was up to, Chipper seemed to summon up some courage and got inside.

Tom shrugged. This guy's antics weren't worth his time. He started to walk away but some heavy feeling started to form in his guts, telling him that he was missing on something. So, very reluctantly he turned back and walked up to a dirty window to look inside.

There was Chipper, dressed in his flying suit, the top part of it hanging around his waist revealing white T-shirt.

And he was talking to Maverick.

Mitchell was kneeling on the floor, bare knees peeking out through the holes ripped in his jeans. His hands and arms were smeared with motor oil almost up to his bare shoulders, his black sleeveless shirt also looking like it had seen better days. Screwdrivers, wrenches and other tools were scattered all around him and his bike.

Mav dropped the wrench and reached for a six pack of beer he had on the side. He handed one can to his friend and when Chipper took it their fingers brushed.

Tom quickly turned around and left.

TBC


	3. Chapter 3

**Fightertown, Miramar, April 1985**

It was a Sunday. It meant no classes and no flights - a day off.

After sleeping in most of pilots and other personnel equipped with grills and beer stormed out to the beach. The day was hot and lazy. From his window Maverick could see others packing their cars with tons of useless crap, loud music and laughter making him want to join in. He groaned. It was too hot to run around chasing a ball but…. It looked like fun.

Still, he promised to meet up with Charlie to talk about the MiG… He wasn't sure if he should go. He was hitting on her at the bar the other night only because he thought they would never see each other again. When she turned out to be his teacher he wanted the ground to swallow him up.

Then she actually started to like him and Maverick didn't know how to play it right from this point. She was obviously interested in him in a way he wasn't ready for. He was alright with a possible one night stand but she was inviting him to her house and she was looking at him in that way that made him want to run. She said it was about the MiG but he knew better. She flirted with him even during classes.

He saw, and more importantly heard, Goose calling some mildly offensive things to Slider. Where was Slider there was Iceman. Maverick walked closer to the window and saw Tom with a baby blue surfing board in his hands… Goose was trying to talk to Kazansky but Tom didn't even spare him one glance. He just scanned the surrounding area, looking for something or someone, and not finding it he busied himself with securing the board on the roof of a Land Rover.

Suddenly Mitchell thought it wasn't really  _that_ hot, and that maybe he should go and see what Goose was up to. He didn't have much time so he put on some blue jeans, white Tee and grabbed his jacket. He would have to go straight to Charlie's place later...

He abruptly stopped himself at the door.

What was he doing? He had a date with a hot chick. Why would he even think about guys on the beach? He left and went straight to Charlie's place. They had a nice dinner with wine, good food and a lot of talking. It wasn't bad but he couldn't concentrate. It wasn't her fault. It was his. Though she DID ask some questions she shouldn't have…. He felt trapped. He needed to get out.

But she wasn't that easy to ditch, so they went to the beach together, and after leaving the bike near the road they took a walk along the shore. If he purposefully directed their steps to his friends' fun spot he at least wouldn't admit it.

**BEACH LA JOLLA, SAN DIEGO, CALIFORNIA**

_After chasing sunsets, one of life's simple joys is playing with the boys…_  It had to be Wolfman's choice in music.

Safely hidden behind his Aviator shades his eyes quickly found Tom. Ice was watching him probably since he heard the roar of his Ninja because they locked their gazes almost immediately. Mav walked up to his RIO.

"So what's up, Goose?"

"I just bet six bucks that we'll beat the other team."

"And who's the other team?" He had his eyes still locked with Iceman's. The blond caught the volley ball, not disrupting their eye lock. Impressive, Maverick would give him that…

Ice was bouncing the ball staring at him with a small smirk forming on his lips. Goose followed his friend's line of vision and raised an eyebrow.

"Weird. He said he wouldn't play…"

Pete chuckled. "Then I guess he changed his mind. Alright, let's play!"

Mitchell quickly took off his shoes, jacket and shirt. Tom was also shirtless, dressed only in black sweats that rode low on his hips. His tan was a nice shade of olive and it covered evenly his whole skin. Maverick envied him. He could already feel some red spots forming on his own pale shoulders. They rotated to forward positions directly opposite each other across the net.

Other revelers turned to watch the game creating one overenthusiastic crowd growing bigger very quickly. Somehow they both moved forward, to the net and to each other, their noses brushing over the strings slightly, but not against each other. Maverick threaded his fingers through the weave just to hold onto something, to keep his hands busy…

Tom didn't waste this chance and grabbed Maverick's hands squeezing them tighter over the net. The shorter man frowned and unsuccessfully tring to pull his hands away. He was already getting red with anger.

"Why so nervous, Mitchell?"

"I'm not nervous, you freak. Let go of my hands." Tom moved his face even closer to Peter's holding his angry gaze.

"Uuuu…. Touchy." And suddenly Maverick was in the sand and on his ass.

"Fucker!" Stupid bastard just pushed him! He was provoking Pete again and the hot headed youth was already boiling with vengeful desire. Fine! He would show them all who's the best!

And so the killer volleyball game begun.

Goose served, and Tom immediately spiked the ball. Pete dived in to save it but ended up with his face buried in the hot sand. Fuck, that means war! Others just watched as it rapidly degenerated to something more than just a game. It was fierce and it was obvious that both teams treated it as seriously as their flying competitions, but there was so much more in there.

Maverick and Ice sent each other more and more teasing smirks and triumphant smiles. They were showing off, but it wasn't in that typical I'm-better-than-you manner. It was more like Look-how-cool-I-am. Wolfman was throwing catcalls and whistles and it kind of caught Maverick's attention for a moment but there was no time to wonder what was it all about. Wolfman had a one track mind and it was always about cock one way or another.

Maverick glanced at Charlie. She seemed uncomfortable, but at this point he was irrevocably drawn into the confrontation. He couldn't stop and he didn't even want to! She said nothing even though her attitude was apparent.

Slider and Goose were concentrated more on trying to spike the ball in each other's faces than on showing off or even winning.

The final point – ball flew up over the middle and of course both Maverick and Ice went up. Maverick mashed and Ice blocked, but the ball sailed away, off his sweat covered forearm.

"Yeaaaaaaaaaaaah!" For the first time ever, Maverick beat him and fuck if anything could ever feel better than this!

Ice acted as cool as ever and walked up to shake Maverick's hand. He was smiling. He probably thought that Pete's manifestations of pure joy were ridiculous and childish….

"Don't be so smug, Mitchell. It was pure luck."

His words lacked their usual edge. For once Ice seemed relaxed and content, smiling at Pete like they were friends.

Ok, so Ice acted all mature about his failure, but it didn't mean that Maverick would do the same. He had won and he was going to show it to the whole world! He'd finally kicked Iceman's ass! It was almost better than flying! Better than…

He looked over at Charlie. She was staring out into the sea. She looked back at him and suddenly something in the air changed. The moment wasn't so perfect anymore. She was looking at him like he did something wrong. They called for another game, but Maverick turned away and walked up to her. She asked to drive her home, so he did. She refused to say anything more.

Ice followed them with his gaze, sincerely regretting that there would be no return game. He couldn't remember when was the last time he enjoyed something so stupid but, damn, it was pure fun. He was having such good time that he didn't even mind loosing. Maybe he was even kind of glad that he did because Maverick's joy was contagious enough. Also seeing him loose again would be no fun at all. Mitchell would be angry and undoubtedly throw a temper tantrum. This was better. Then he spotted Charlie and felt sick. Was Maverick showing off with thee ball just to impress her? Ice thought that the game was only _their_ moment and _their_ fun. Sharing it felt wrong.

He felt cheated.

**Marine Corps Air Station Miramar - April, 1985**

Gosse's family arrived at weekend and Maverick spend some of his free time with them having fun.

Charlie was avoiding him. She didn't answer any of his calls and stopped flirting with him completely. He wanted to know why but he didn't even have a chance to ask. She was treating him like some stranger. He didn't get it…

On late Monday afternoon guys called him to play basketball. The field was beside their airstrip, so they had a wonderful view of starting and landing machines on the gorgeous background of the setting sun. Maverick liked that place. It was perfect to just sit there alone and clear his mind of any problems.

Iceman tagged along, though not without showing everyone how much of a waste of his precious time it was. Only when he spotted Maverick his enthusiasm risen a bit. It was just another chance to cut Mitchell down to size and show him who's better! Or at the very least to pay him back for the volleyball game.

But, to their unhidden dismay, the field was already taken by some other group of soldiers. Slider unceremoniously asked them to leave and after few exchanged words it looked like a fist fight was coming, so Wolfman and Goose took over the conversation and established that the two teams would play against each other. Pete and Tom exchanged weird looks. They were going to be in the same team. It didn't make any sense…

Unsurprisingly Ice and Mav immediately took over the game earning points with every shot, trying to prove one another who can get more balls in, who can get more points or jump higher and run  faster. But, the other team was just as good. At the end the situation became difficult. Ice was close to the basket while Maverick had the ball.

"Pass it to me, Mitchell!" It would make the winning points. How could he let Ice to take it. Maverick frowned and threw the ball straight at the basket. It bumped from the rim and bounced off. Luckily Iceman caught it and got it on.

"SHIT!" While others from his team were cheering Maverick was crushed. Ice had stolen his final points! He turned around to hit the fence with his fist, but someone caught his forearm and pushed him. His forehead hit the wall. He wanted to move back, but Tom's hands were unrelenting pressing on his shoulderblades.

"What the fuck were you thinking, Mitchell? Don't you fucking get it yet? We are on the same team, you fucktard, on the same side!"

"You stole my shot!" Maverick hissed through his teeth , turning his face to the side.

"Do you really have shit for brains?" Iceman was fisting Peter's hair, turning his head to face him and unwittingly pulling it closer. He tilted his own head to look into the other man's eyes, to clearly see his anger or, hopefully, some regret for what he had done or shame! But he saw none of that. What shone in Maverick eyes almost made his knees give up under him. Dark eyes were shining dangerously but It wasn't with anger. It was something else completely and Iceman's minty breath hitched momentary at the thought of what it could be. In confusion he lessened his grip and Maverick used it to turn around. But he didn't hit Ice. He didn't push him away either. No, he grabbed his collar and pulled him closer instead.

Before any of them did or say anything else Tom felt hands on his shoulders, pulling him away from Mitchell. He struggled. He didn't want this confrontation to be over, not yet. He wanted to know, what it was! But Slider was holding him tight, pulling him further and further away from the smaller body of his rival, that radiated heat in angry waves in a weirdly enticing, and almost seductive manner... This was bad. Maverick straightened up and was still looking Tom in the eyes. When Goose walked up to check if he had hurt his forehead Pete pushed his hands away and started to walk off. While passing the still dumbfounded Ice he mumbled:

"Stupid fucker…" and got onto his bike.

Next day they were analyzing one of Pete's crazier maneuvers during classes. Charlie was looking him saying things that made him want to hit something. He was on edge since the last evening and he wasn't up for more shit. He had enough to deal with.

He didn't see how behind him Tom leaned over the rail to study his face with a satisfied smirk. The room was dark but Tom was close enough to see Pete's profile, his frown and gritted teeth. Tom put his face on his folded forearms practically laying on the rail and staring at his rival, not even realizing what he was doing.

Charlie's words were really harsh. "That's the last thing you should do. The MiG is right on your tail."

She pointed to the screen, but never stopped looking at Mitchell.

"What were you thinking?"

Maverick squeezed the pencil he was holding. He couldn't snap at her now, around Jester and Viper. What the fuck did she mean?

"You don't have time to think up there. You think – you're dead."

"That's a big gamble with a 30 million dollar plane, Lieutenant."

Iceman's smile grew wider. It seemed that Mitchell got dumped! That was… satisfying. Seeing him with Charlie on the beach the other day made his blood boil but only after what had happened after the basketball game he realized why… Before that he was only vaguely aware of the fact that he found Maverick attractive. He stubbornly refused to give it a thought because that lunatic was driving him crazy! He was stubborn, reckless and stupid and Iceman didn't want to work with such a delinquent. It was unsafe, risky, dangerous…. Interesting, tempting...

He wanted to change Maverick, but the more he tried the more Maverick resisted. And the more resistance Ice encountered the more he wanted to push even further. He was used to fighting for what he wanted. It was never easy but he never gave up. He took Maverick as just another challenge and suddenly he found himself trapped. Maverick was pulling him like a magnet. Tom recognized the danger but miscalculated its source. He thought the danger came with Maverick's flying but it wasn't that… He wanted Mitchell THAT way. And he wanted him bad… From the very first God damn day! And he didn't even notice! Even though he thought about the little twerp 24/7; even in his sleep! And now he had a crush on Pete Mitchell.

"Unfortunately your gamble worked." It looked like it physically hurt Charlie to admit that.

"The MiG never got a clean shot. Maverick makes an aggressive vertical move here, comes over the top, and defeats the bandit with a missile shot." She looked at him pointedly.

"We accounted it as a victory but I think we should show it as an example of what NOT to do."

Pete's jaw clenched with hardly contained anger and frustration. He did the right thing! It worked! If she was angry at him for something he did to her THIS was not the time or place to punish him for that! It wasn't fair. He would take any shit but NOT badmouthing his flying, especially his greatest moves!

"The gutsiest move I ever saw, man…." Hollywood whispered to him from behind, making Maverick smile.

Good. At least some people saw it for what it was. Then Charlie started to analyze Iceman's strategy, as a perfect example of a text book move. It doubled his anger and he couldn't even listen anymore. After the classes he stormed out of the building ignoring Charile's calls. He didn't care if she wanted to apologize or defend her opinion.

He just wanted to get away, feel wind in hair and catch another sunset.

TBC


	4. Chapter 4

 

**Fightertown, Miramar, May 1985**

Maverick was getting tired with this. Charlie still didn't talk to him and Iceman was a prick. His eyes seemed constantly glued to Pete and the brunette had enough of this. It was giving him boners at the most inappropriate moments and kept him constantly on edge.

Next flying session was a challenge in itself. They had two points of loss so when Maverick spotted Viper he chased him not looking behind. He was truly brilliant up until the moment when Jester appeared behind him and took them down….

"Defense department regrets to inform you that your sons are dead because they were stupid." It took a moment for Maverick to take in Gosse's words. They had lost. How was it possible? He still asked himself that very question when he was taking a shower. "You have 30 seconds Woolfman! I'm coming in!" Sometimes Hollywood just didn't bother with courtesy, but neither did Woolfman.

"Shut up, you butt nose!"

Luckily marines didn't have problem with their colleagues being gay. There were far too many of them to care. Woolfman an Wood's interactions were mostly welcomed with a friendly manner, so they got some whistles and catcalls. Just then Jester entered the locker room and walked up to Mav, who was still sulking by the wall.

"That was some of the best flying I've seen yet, kid. Until you got killed. You never, NEVER leave your wingman."

He left quickly and Maverick moved too. His place by the wall was instantly taken by Ice. The blond was wearing a towel so small that it barely covered his cock. It pissed Maverick that Ice was so tall and… build like that… bigger than him… probably in every aspect…. And THAT thought he hated even more than he hated Ice. He was not supposed to think about this anymore…

"Maverick…" So it was time for a lesson from the wICEman. "It's not your flying. It's your attitude. Your enemy's dangerous but right now you're worse than the enemy. You're dangerous and foolish. You may not like the guys flying with you, they may not like you, but whose side are you on?"

It wasn't nice but it was true and Mitchell needed to finally see it. When would he realize that flying is not just another game!? What does he need, to understand that when he flies he has not just his own life in his hands, but also others?! How could he just leave Wood?! When would he fucking grow up?

…

He was speeding through the streets purposefully ignoring speed limits and stop signs. He heard some hoots and slowed down slightly. He was nearing his destination anyway. After stopping by the airstrip he got off the bike, and turn when he heard a car braking with a loud screech right beside his Ninja. He didn't even have time to wonder who it was, because the black Mustang's door opened immediately revealing Iceman.

"What the fuck?" Tom smashed the car door close and walked up to Maverick.

"Are you done with the temper tantrum, Mitchell?"

"Fuck you, Kazansky! Go and read some text books!"

"It looks like I should maybe read one to you, so you would finally learn something!" Tom was losing his cool again.

"Were you trying to kill yourself on that just now?" He couldn't even remember why he followed Maverick so stupidly but he sure as hell would love to give him a lesson.

"Back off, Ice! I'm not in a mood for your shit! So fuck you."

"Really? And what kind of mood ARE you in then?" Where did that come from? Iceman stepped closer to Maverick, enjoying how the smaller man fidgeted and squirmed in clear discomfort. Pete tried not to panic. He tried that since last night when he realized that Ice manhandling him gave him a hard on. It was wrong on every level and clearly meant that he should avoid the blond demon. What the fuck was he doing here now? And why he always got so close…? And why didn't he ever push the bastard away? He should… but he didn't.

He let his butt rest on the Ninja's seat. Bad move. Now Ice was towering over him completely and it made him even more nervous and uncertain and he was sure he was blinking stupidly again.

Tom took in Pete's behavior. The man was lost and angry. He needed a vent.

"What's wrong, Maverick?" Iceman stepped between Pete's spread legs and rested his hands on the bike, on both sides of the other man's body. Obviously, in the situation like this one, Pete should feel trapped and intimidated, but somehow, not this time. He did try to pull back though, to create some distance.

"First Charlie and now you. I have enough of your preaching!"

"Did she dump you?" Tom's lips were too close…. almost brushing his when he spoke, but Pete didn't move away. He refused to run away.

"I was never with her, so she couldn't dump me." Iceman chuckled softly tickling Maverick's ear with his breath, sending delicious shivers through the shorter man's body. The air around was rapidly getting hotter and his pants tighter.

"But I saw you with her on the beach." Tom's mouth descended lower, from the small pinkish ear to the tempting looking neck.

"We were just talking about the MiG!" Why was he explaining himself to this bastard? He felt lips pressing softly to the skin right under his ear. His whole body gave a start at the shock of pleasure coming from a sensitive spot but the instinctive urge to resist made him react defensively.

"And it's none of your business!" Iceman landed on his as in the grass looking adorably confused, like he had just fell of the sky and had no idea where he was or why. Maverick wanted to laugh at him. He wanted to yell and call him names. He wanted to punch him in the face! It just that he couldn't, because he was somehow straddling Iceman's stomach and his tongue was examining Kazansky's tonsils. For someone with a call sign Iceman, Tom could be really hot when he wanted to.

Two days ago they were fighting in just exactly that very place, under the same sun setting behind the horizon, with the same planes roaring in the background. Now they were lying in the grass rutting against each other like a pair of horny teenagers. Pete was holding Tom's face in his hands, like he was afraid that he would run away.

Iceman's hands were everywhere, exploring Maverick's body, familiarizing themselves with the taunt muscles of his back and thighs, with his hips and his little ass. Damn, Maverick's ass was so tiny and promised so much pleasure that it almost made Tom cum on the spot. With one hand wandering somewhere under Maverick's leather jacket and the other one rubbing over the cleft of his ass he pulled him closer, letting the hardness' in their pants get some friction.

"Fuck…" Maverick moaned, releasing Tom's lips for a moment and exposing his neck for them to explore. It felt incredible! Oh fucking damn it… He wanted more… Then he felt something prod on his hole and for the briefest moment he wondered WHEN THE FUCK did his pants were pulled down?! But then it didn't matter anymore, because something wet and slick was screwing itself between his legs and into him…. And he knew it was just a finger and that it was alright. It's not like he was being fucked or anything. It was just touching. But the drilling was reaching deeper with their every move and Maverick found himself pushing back to get more of it in. Another finger, and another and then something more…

"Fuck no!" The fingers came back, thrusting, rubbing….

"Why the hell not?"

"I won't let you fuck me…"

"Don't act like a girl, Mitchell. It doesn't suit you."

"Shut up…" He moaned shamelessly, lost in pleasurable moves around his prostate. He rubbed his dick on Iceman's a little more and was about to have his release, but the man under him removed his hand.

"What the fuck?" His voice was breathless and hoarse.

"I want you, Mitchell. I wanted you from the first time I saw you…"

"Well, you can't have me. I won't let you do it. Not you!"

"What the fuck do you mean, not me? Then who? Chipper? Who the hell is better than me, huh?" Maverick sat up slightly to let the other man's hand pump his dick. It was perfect.

"Who, Mitchell? Who could be better than me?"

"I AM!"

"But you can't get your own dick up here now, can you?" With these words Iceman's nimble finger wet with pre-cum slid down, over Maverick's balls and to the crevice further down. Cold bastard was calm and so freaking annoying!

The finger got in again and again bringing the pleasure back. And then it wasn't a finger anymore and it hurt as hell, but at this point Pete would rather die than stop.

He moved his hips adjusting to the large intruder and trying to get it deep enough to rub that spot. When it did, there was nothing else anymore, just the pleasure radiating from between his legs. When he opened his eyes after being blinded by the power of his orgasm, what he saw took his breath away anew.

Tom's head was pulled back and his lips slightly parted, twisted in something that could be pain but wasn't. It was total abandon and it was something that Maverick would never be able to forget. Ever cool and composed Iceman let him – his rival – to see him at his weakest… And he was so fucking beautiful…. The bile had risen in Pete's insides - somewhere low, just above that spot were the tip of Iceman's dick was still screwing the most sensitive gland of his nerves. Then it moved up, through his stomach, bumping painfully at his heart and slid out of his mouth in a pitiful sob.

Tom slowly opened one eye and lazily looked at his partner, still riding him helplessly. Maverick was gorgeous. And he was kissing him again…. Being kissed by the feisty brunette seemed almost impossible! Fucking him was beyond belief…

When Maverick finally released his lips he looked him in the eyes for a very long moment.

"I still hate you." With one smooth move Iceman switched their position and was pinning Pete's hands to the ground with just ONE of his own.

"Don't say things you may regret, Mitchell." Maverick chuckled.

"Fine, maybe I just don't like you…" That earned him the weirdest punishment ever – a finger up his sore ass.

"Shit! S-stop…" Ice leered at him and grinned like a maniac.

"Are you sure?"

"Fuck you! Yes, I'm sure! I'm sore you stupid fucker…"

"I would apologize but you were on top. You did it to yourself."

"Shut up…. You practically raped me." Tom laughed at that.

"You threw me to ground, straddled and rode to the best orgasm ever, and you still have a gal to claim I had raped you. Your arrogance is unbelievable."

"Was that supposed to be compliment?"

"Yea, I guess…"

"I'm still angry at you. I came here on a bike, you know? And now I can't seat!" Tom's hysteric laughter was slowly dying down.

"You know Mitchell, you will be a good boyfriend material when you finally grow up."

Nothing lightens up the mood better than getting laid. Fuck, Ice would have this stupid smirk on his face for a week….

"Fuck you, Kazansky! If you ever tell about this to anyone, I swear…"

"And risk my reputation? For your skinny ass? Forget it, Mitchell."

They both smiled. They both wanted to say and hear those things, though neither of them believed one word of this crap.

Or maybe they did? Who cares. There was some unbearable tension between the two of them and now it was gone. Now everything should settle down at least a bit.

TBC


	5. Chapter 5

**FIGHTERTOWN, Miramar, May 1985**

Another weekend brought some more fun time with Goose and his family. It helped with not thinking about Charlie's weird behavior. Drinks with Wolfman and Hollywood, ballgames and movies let him forget about the nightmare of being the second best…

But nothing could make him forget or not think about Tom's face in the moment of his little death … Pete saw it every time he closed his eyes. And sometimes he didn't even have to do that, he still had it in his head… Would he ever see anything like that again?

He thought that they would avoid each other after their tryst but it was impossible while living together in Fightertown. Now Ice was smirking at him, leering and even sending discreet kisses that no one else saw, or slapped his ass in front of everyone. Sometimes it made Maverick want to smile like an idiot but other times it was killing him, or made him want to kill Ice. Besides his traitorous ass itched to get some and he couldn't even think about looking for it anywhere else.

It was like a fever, a heat that had nothing to do with the weather. It was like a volcano locked under his skin. It was a pain to keep it down and he wasn't sure how long would he manage to do that.

In the locker room after the training Ice would always sit with his back against Maverick's. He would casually put his hand on Mav's shoulder while he talked to others by the hangars. He would sit beside him during classes and fucking ruffle his hair for no goddamn reason.

He was teasing. He was torturing Mav. Was he doing it on purpose or was he completely unaware of how many restless, sleepless nights he had caused?

It was raining… for the first time since he arrived to Miramar.

The air was heavy and smelled kind of musky… Or maybe it was just Maverick's overheated body fooling his senses. Gods, he was going crazy… He got into the shower to cool off, but then changed his mind and decided to try a different approach to the problem rising between his legs. The water was warm and nice… His skin heated and oversensitive. Running his hands all over his body he stood under the intense spray and thought of Tom in the grass beside the airstrip. He twisted his own nipples, moaning softly and then quickly started to pump his dick. It was hardly enough. His hole needed some attention too, so he fucked it with his wet fingers but to his immense disappointment it didn't get him anywhere near orgasm. Maybe he should watch some TV instead or read something… He took a towel and started to dry his hair. Low hum of a distant thunder almost drowned the sound of a doorbell. Almost.

He got to the door, not caring that all he had on him was a pair of tattered jeans and a wet towel over his neck.

What he had found on his doorstep was the second most beautiful thing he saw in the last few days (or ever), first still being Ice lost in the pleasure Mav had given him. The memory made him blush and all he could do for some awkwardly long moment was stare at Tom, completely soaked, and sinfully sexy.

"Are you going to let me in or do you want to check if the rain is warm enough to melt the Ice?"

Maverick would rather check if HE was warm enough… He stepped back, letting his hand slip of the door handle. Ice passed him in the threshold, brushing one hand through his hair. He smelled like summer rain and sun, like musk and fresh skin, like cologne and Paradise found.

Like everything Maverick needed.

He was drenched. His blond hair looked kind of funny but somehow Pete couldn't force himself to joke or even smile. Nervously he run a hand through his own wet hair, trying to maybe brush them down a little…

"So…. I was just passing by, you know…." Tom couldn't believe he was saying this…

"Yeah…." Maverick couldn't believe he simply confirmed….

"And I brought wine…" Ice handed the bottle to still visibly lost Maverick.

"Oh…. It's French."

"Sure it's French. You didn't really expect me to drink some Californian shit, did you?…"

To be honest Maverick didn't know much about wines…. He could recognize color! But not much else…

"I…. I'll bring the glasses. You can go and find yourself some towel… or clothes…"

Tom chuckled. "Your clothes? Or maybe your boyfriend, who is bigger than you, had left here some of his?"

"I don't have a boyfriend, Kazansky."

„Good." But Tom didn't leave the room to look for a bathroom. He simply reached his hand to Maverick and agonizingly slowly he pulled the towel off his neck and then used it to dry himself.

Water was still dripping from his hair, sliding down his neck, over his Adam's Apple and into the collar of his shirt. His shirt… was white and soaked though… completely transparent, exposing his dark, perked up nipples.

"Wipe the drool, Mitchell."

"Fuck you, Kazansky."

They moved to the couch with two wine glasses and a corkscrew.

The mood was weird and atmosphere thick, heavy with tension. It was easier to deal with it when they were fighting. This, whatever it was, was unbearable. Tom's hungry eyes made Pete's stomach twist and suddenly he felt exposed and incredibly horny.

"I… I'll go and put on some… shirt."

"Don't bother. You look fine."

Maverick left anyway. He needed something to hide his boner. While he was putting on some long and loose sleeveless shirt the door bell rang again. Pete hurried to open the door but there was Tom, already letting Nick and Caroll in.

Shit. Stupid fucker! He was smiling, introducing himself to Goose's wife, and shaking Nick's son's little hand.

Goose was looking at Pete questioningly, probably wondering what the hell was Kazansky doing there. Then he spotted two glasses already filled with some expensive wine and then looked at Mav again. Caroll ignored that weird exchange. Pete was blinking rapidly and his face was alarmingly red.

"Mav, could you stay with our little runt for an hour or so? We need to take a round around shops in here and…"

Goose interrupted her. "Wait, I think Mav is busy."

Maverick wanted to say that he wasn't, but he actually was. He didn't want Ice to leave, but also he wasn't going to refuse Goose. Ice was first to answer:

"Don't be silly, Goose."

Mav looked at Ice expecting him to say that 'he was just leaving'. He wouldn't waste his night off to play a baby sitter with Maverick.

"We'll take care of him, right Mav? Come on, champ!"

He was already scooping the kid into his arms, doing some things to make him laugh. Pete's jaw dropped, so did Goose's. Caroll was all smiles. Tom took the kid to the kitchen promising a mug of hot chocolate and Caroll followed them, purposefully leaving two friends alone.

"So… You and Ice… I thought so."

"It's not like that, Goose…."

"It's not?... But it is, isn't it?"

Maverick blushed deeper red and dropped his gaze to the floor.

"I don't know."

Goose patted his shoulder. He'd never seen Maverick so mortified. It was so unexpected and strange that it wasn't even funny. He didn't know what to say. He was completely shocked with all this. With the fact that Mav was obviously developing some strong feeling to the other person, with the fact that this person was a man, with this man being… well… kind of dominant, what implied Maverick being submissive – ridiculous, right? – and then to top it all this dominant man was a guy that Maverick supposedly hated. This was crazy. What could he say to that?

"He's a good man, Mav." Those words came out of his mouth on their own but he quickly realized he meant them. It was true. Tom Kazansky was… perfect. "Maybe even too good for you, actually…"

"Fuck you, Goose."

Pete's fist hit Nick's shoulder a bit too hard to be funny, but maybe he deserved it.

It turned out that Tom was as great with children as he was with everything else. He played with Gosse's son and talked with him about planes and being a pilot.

Maverick watched it with unhidden amusement and a hint of admiration. Tom winked at him, and poured them more wine. The boy had his crayons with him and decided to draw for a moment. Tom sat closely beside Mav on the couch and draped his arm over the brunette. The boy was talking about his parents, focused on the piece of paper so Tom decided he waited long enough and leaned down to the other pilot to kiss his cheek. Pete tensed at first. He was reacting to Iceman's closeness a bit too strong! There was four year old boy sitting right in front of them.

But he still couldn't help but smile.

So Tom didn't hold back anymore. He freely brushed Pete's hair, nuzzled his neck and held his hand driving them both absolutely crazy. When Pete walked up to the sink to wash the coffee mugs Tom stepped right behind him and put his hands on Maverick hips.

"There's a kid in the other room, Ice."

"As you said – in THE OTHER room. Besides, I'm not doing anything."

"Goose thinks we're lovers…"

"Good." Ice pushed his hips forward, grinding into Maverick's ass.

"Fuck, stop it."

"No. I want you."

"I figured as much."

"Can I stay the night?"

Maverick laughed nervously.

"I knew you're not the type to run before sunrise…."

"Of course. I'm going to sleep until morning and even use your shower before morning classes."

"No way. I'll kick you out in the morning."

"You won't. Besides I'll come back here with you after the afternoons flights."

"You won't. I won't be here."

"Yes, you will."

Ice pressed on him with his whole body this time, hugging and nuzzling his neck.

"Shit… Where the fuck are they?"

Caroll and Goose were gone for a little over an hour.

"Hey honey, how was your stay with uncle Maverick?"

"GREAT! I don't wanna go yet!"

Goose dragged his kid away from the coffee table. "Time to go!"

"Wait, dad…. My drawing!"

The kid took his drawing from the table, walked up to Maverick and Ice, who were standing very close to each other. Goose wasn't sure but it looked like Tom's hand might be on Pete's back.

"Here, this is for you."

The boy handed them the drawing. Maverick took it and blushed rising Caroll's curiosity.

"What did you draw there, honey?"

"Uncle Maverick and uncle Ice!"

The kid looked delightfully pleased with his handy work, but Pete just folded the drawing neatly and put it away, refusing to show it to anybody. Ice saw it only briefly but looked like a cat that swallowed a canary.

As soon as the door closed behind the happy family, both pilots were all over each other. Ice was pressing Mav against the wall, kissing the living daylights out of him while Pete wasted no time and busied his hands with undoing Tom's pants.

And then a door bell… again.

"Fuck…" Tom groaned and moved away form his lover.

"You know what…? You open this time. I'll wait in the bedroom."

Maverick just nodded. He opened the door just a crack and looked at Goose.

"I'm really sorry, Mav, but we've left a bag with crayons…."

Maverick glared at his friend. "Wait here." Goose laughed cheerfully but smoothed his face before Maverick opened the door again and threw a bag of crayons at him without word.

"Thank-" The door were slammed at Nick's face.

Pete went straight to the bedroom, taking off his shirt on the way.

Tom was also shirtless, with unbuttoned pants, and he was moving the comforter on the bed aside. When he saw Maverick he walked up to him again, grabbed his hips and lifted him up. Being thrown onto the bed felt better than it should… Damn… Ice was lying on him, kissing him like there was no tomorrow. Pete had his hands buried in the blond mane, returning fierce kisses and responding to caresses with moans and panting.

Tom's lips on his neck drove him nuts. He would be bruised after this but he couldn't care less, because those sinful lips were sucking his nipple and he still had his pants on… He struggled to take them off. Luckily Iceman's hands helped him quickly and then those lips of his moved down, sucking below his chest. Teeth scraped the skin on his ribs, and then a tongue emerged from them to lick Pete's stomach and dive in his navel.

Tom loved how the smaller body shivered from his touch, how the most defiant man he had ever met gave up completely under him, from just his kisses. Maverick trembled in anticipation, squirmed and moaned, already leaking pre cum like he waited forever just for this….

Ice took him into his mouth and sucked hungrily bobbing his head up and down, moving his lips over the throbbing length.

"Fuck… Ice…"

Iceman moved away and looked up. "Say my name, Peter…."

Maverick looked down at him and gasped. Tom Kazansky was epitome of sex.

"Tom… fuck me…"

"Fuck? It's such a crude word… "

"Just shut up!"

Ice generously covered his two fingers with saliva and slid them into his partner. They went in surprisingly easy. He hummed, only mildly surprised.

"Were you playing with yourself, Maverick? Or did you let someone else to-" The change in Iceman's tone was as clear as day and the last thing Pete wanted was to anger him now.

"I didn't!"

"Good."

"Jealous much?"

Ice snorted. "Yes, as a matter of fact… VERY much, so you better behave."

He started to stretch Maverick more, all the while remembering to tease his prostate and occasionally lick his dick or suck his balls. Finally, when the brunette was covered with a distinct sheen of sweat and looked like a panting and moaning mess, he removed his fingers and moved up, spreading Pete's legs and making himself comfortable between them. Slowly he slid in marveling in the feeling of Maverick's body clenching around his manhood. Pete squeezed him with his thighs and lifted his hips a bit. Ice was kneeling, sitting on his heels and had his hands on Maverick's hips, rubbing them comfortingly.

"Damn it, Peter… You're so hot…"

He moved carefully and Maverick matched his movements, only to quicken the pace right away, impatient to see Iceman's cool nature crumbling down once more.

It was pure bliss to have this untamed and wild creature pinned down and on his mercy… If only Tom could do that for the rest of his life he would die happy.

They made love many times. Sometimes quickly, rushing just to reach the peak, other times slowly, lazily, exploring and trying new things. Hungry for each other after every single time they wondered how the hell did they managed to stay away from each other for so long! And more importantly: WHY?

Maverick was lying on his stomach, and Tom was lying almost on him, plastered to his back, tracing some invisible patterns on Pete's arm with his finger. He was asking so many questions… And Maverick found it surprisingly easy to answer them all sincerely, without problem.

"She died shortly after him…"

"What happened to your father?" Ice's lips when he spoke were brushing over the brunette's skin.

"I wish I had a security clearance that would let me learn more about it. It's a big mystery. He disappeared in an F-4 November 5th,1965. The stink of it was... he screwed up. No way. My old man was a great fighter pilot. But who the hell knows? It's all classified."

"So you want to be like him?"

"Yea, I guess… He was fearless."

"You're not fearless. You're reckless and stupid. God, I wish you would finally understand that 'being dangerous' is not a good thing. You need to grow up."

"And you need to loosen up! You piss me off. How come you're always so preserved and mature?"

"You think I don't rebel?"

"Well, do you?"

"I am here, am I not?"

"So? Being gay in the navy is hardly rebellious. It's not even original…."

"I didn't mean your bed, idiot, I meant the navy. My parents wanted me to become a lawyer but I always wanted to be a pilot. They thought it was just a phase, some childish dream, but I was serious. Joining the navy was my first and only act of defiance. My parents are rich and have power to do a lot, so they made my life in the army a living hell to make me resign. I had to try really hard to keep up, I watched my every step. I followed every rule to not give anyone a chance to kick me out. It worked. I'm here, risking my life,  _riding a silver dove_ … "

" _Right into the night_ …. Ha, ha… I knew it."

"Knew what? And did you just giggle?"

"I don't giggle, you asshole. And I knew that you're rich!"

"I'm not rich. My parents are."

"You're rich. I knew it! Tell me, did you take piano lessons?"

"Why?"

"Just tell me!"

"Maybe I did."

Maverick was laughing like an idiot - that he, by the way, was. Tom just ignored it completely and slowly, not changing their position slid into Maverick again, cutting of his stupid laughter. He moved them rhythmically, enjoying the warmth of Pete's willing body.

"I need to go the bath room." If that was Pete's bratty revenge for spoiling his fun, it was mean.

"Can't you wait till I finish?"

"No. You'll wait. I need to go." Stubborn brat.

Very reluctantly Ice retreated and watched as Mitchell got out of the bed with his dick proudly standing up from between his thighs.

"Are you sure you can take a piss like that?"

"I'll manage."

Maverick laughed and left the room. Tom sighed heavily, already missing him badly. He finally got up and put on his pants.

"Wait, where are you going?" They met in the hallway.

"To the kitchen. Maybe I didn't take cooking lessons but I'm still marvelous at everything I do so brace yourself for the feast of your life."

"Great, I already got one in bed and it whet my appetite. Let's eat."

Since then every day was like that. They spent together every minute, falling in love and cataloguing it in their heads as just fucking.

It was perfect.

TBC


	6. Chapter 6

**Marine Corps Air Station Miramar - May , 1985 - two weeks to graduation.**

Just as any other day they got to their planes. Maverick was once again in the full fighting mode. Ice had two points on him and he was determined to change it. They got into the air, close enough to keep an eye contact.

Goose was enthusiastic. "It's time for a big one!"

Iceman didn't return the smile from the brunette in the other jet. In the air they were not Pete and Tom, they were Maverick and Iceman. They were professionals.

"You're up for this, Maverick?"

"It's like a walk in the park, Kazansky." Maverick answered him with a grin, not caring about the call signs, or just to rile Ice up.

He was brutally reminded about their everlasting rivalry by Tom getting into his way at the first occurring occasion.

"That son of a bitch caught me off!"

Aaaaaaaaand, he was doing nothing.

"Ice! Fire or clear!" Maverick wanted to use other words but…"Jesus Christ! I could take a shot right here!"

"Easy Maverick! Twenty seconds and I got him."

"I'm getting in! I've got a shot!" Maverick didn't want to wait.

"Come on Mav, let's get in there!" Goose's voice was encouraging him. "Come on, Mav! Ice, get the hell out of there!"

"Ten more seconds!" That was all Ice needed, just…

"I'm moving in!" Maverick was getting impatient.

"Five more seconds!"

"I'm in!"

"I'm up! SHIT!"

That's how they got into Iceman's jet wash, the turbulence sending them into a flat spin. After that everything was a blur of voices, images and unbearable pain in his chest. Pain from the wound that would never heal.

Then, much later, Viper's words…. "First one dies - you die too, but there will be others. You can count on it. You've got to let him go."

Was that supposed to console him?

Let him go… while all he wanted was to have him back?

"The spin was induced by the disruption of air flow into the starboard engine. This disruption stalled the engine. Which produced enough yaw rate to induce a spin which was unrecoverable. There was no way Lieutenant Mitchell could see or avoid the jet wash. The Board of Inquiry finds that he was not at fault in the accident. His record will be cleared. He's restored to flight status without further delay."

Bull shit. It  _was_  his fault… For Caroll, for Goose's kid and for himself, he would always be the guy, who caused Nick's death, because if only he had stayed back patiently, if he… did... something… Fuck! It was all over.

Caroll said that Goose would fly without him…. But  _he_  wasn't Goose!

He was clearing his locker when he heard someone behind his back and braced himself for another 'I'm sorry about Goose' speech.

It was difficult to talk to Maverick. He had lost his best friend, his RIO, and along with it his own confidence as a pilot and clearly his will to live. He was a mess. He needed some support, but he was a stubborn bastard, too proud to accept consolation from Tom. At first Iceman was afraid that Maverick would blame him. It was his jet wash after all… but it was nobody's fault and it pained Ice that the idiot would probably never accept it. Maverick would blame himself because he would like that more than admitting that he had no power over the events. He would never stop and think. He would only jump into conclusions and run away. He would break down, shatter... while Tom wanted to pick up the pieces and fill the cracks with his... his... he just wanted to be there for him, no matter what.

"Don't go."

Maverick froze.

"I'm really sorry about Goose. Everybody liked him and… I'm sorry. Just don't go."

"Why? You'll go. In two weeks time we will all go. Or maybe you'll take the trophy and stay as an instructor. It's all the same."

"Not for me. And not for you."

"Don't get ahead of yourself, Kazansky. Who do you think you are to tell me what to do?! " Friend? Boyfriend? Father?

"It's not about me. You said that flying is all you want, that it's all that matters. What would your father say…"

Maverick smashed him into the wall. It hurt but it didn't matter. Pete didn't say anything. He was just looking at him angrily, pleadingly, pitifully… with his tear filled eyes. He was in so much pain, and Tom didn't know what to do to take it away. It felt awful. True, he wanted the man to grow the fuck up, but not like that…

"If you need me, Pete, I'm here." He just shook his head and left with a duffle bag in his hands while Ice calmly wondered if trying to stop him could do anything good. It looked like Pete needed to deal with it on his own. Tom hated it. Just a mere notion of Mitchell doing anything on his own was making him sick. He shouldn't leave him alone… ever.

In the end he didn't leave and Ice was dying to know why. He was a mere shadow of the real Maverick though. He hesitated with every move driving others nuts. Ice decided to let him be, but slowly he was losing hope. Acting like that was even more dangerous for others than the old Maverick's crazy stunts.

**Fightertown, Miramar, may 1985**

The graduation ceremony was not as they all imagined. It was supposed to be the best day of their lives but it was kind of sad, and disappointing, full of forced smiles and halfhearted congratulations. It wasn't supposed to be like that….

Tom was on edge.

"I swear, if Piper asks about Maverick one more time I'm going to kick his ass."

"Pete!" Chipper's voice dragged everyone's eyes to the door.

So, Maverick did show up after all. He came up to Ice to shake his hand, but Ice refused to let go. He didn't care who saw them. Pete was going to leave forever to wallow in his self pity. It was tragic…

He held his hand and when the other man looked up at him, questioningly, he pulled him into a hug. Maverick's slightly smaller form fitted there just perfectly. They were perfect together, complementing each other, balancing each other's faults… It was too good to let it go. He squeezed tighter and Pete returned it slightly, practically melting in the other man's arms.

He wanted to tell Tom about the conversation he had with Viper. He wanted to thank him for what he had said in the locker room, for mentioning his father in just the right moment to make him stop and think. He wanted to tell him about everything he had learned about his father from Viper. He wanted to stay in his arms listening that everything would somehow be alright; but it would be useless. Ice would leave, he would leave… It wasn't meant to be from the start and it was fucking killing him, that even though he knew it, he still let it happen, still got so close. And now he craved Iceman's closeness. He wanted to see him, to be close, to have sex and pointless banters. He wanted to fall asleep in his arms and wake from his kisses. And he hated himself for this weakness.

For a very short moment some trace of hope appeared and it made Tom's heart beat faster. Would Maverick stop that drama and come back to him? Would he stop being useless in the air and get himself together again?

But Maverick pushed him away just as Viper approached them all with a mission. And then he couldn't stay silent. That was more than just some training sessions. This was real. Too many lives on the line to take risks. Too much of a risk of losing Maverick forever….

Viper offered Mitchell himself as his RIO. Tom didn't get it. It didn't make sense! He followed Viper to his car.

"Sir! He's not…"

"I know, Lieutenant. But he deserves a chance. He'd lost Goose…."

"I'm losing HIM and no one walks on eggshells around me!..."

He froze. He couldn't believe his own outburst.

"I'm sorry, Sir. I didn't mean it… It's just that…"He was breathing faster. He didn't mean to say it. It was all wrong. Not just because he had just revealed their secret but because he admitted that it was over, taht he had really lost him. And to say it out loud was equal with ripping his own heart out. He never thought it would hurt that bad.

"I just… I want him back… I want him back…" Viper's hand was on his shoulder.

"Me too. And sending him up there is our only chance to achieve that."

"What if he's not ready…?!"

"If you can't trust him, trust me." One more pat on the shoulder and R. Commander Metcalf was gone, leaving Tom confused and with tears in his eyes. He had no idea that loosing Mitchell affected him that strongly. But he couldn't fall apart now. They had work to do.

After changing up they had a debriefing with Stinger on the ship. They paired Maverick with Merlin – Cougar's RIO… It was Tom's last chance to save Pete's sorry ass….

"Sir, it's nothing personal but I don't think that Maverick…" But Stinger just silenced him sharply and all too soon they were up in the air.

Iceman's voice roared through the radio: "Wood, You got them?"

"Not yet, I can't see them…" But ever helpful Wolfman had his own radar.

"They must be close. I'm getting a hard on!"

Iceman took the lead. Maverick was ready for a take-off, squeezing Goose's dog tags in his fist.

Suddenly, completely out of nowhere there were five enemy planes instead of two and they were MiGs! Wood'd been hit. Ice watched with a great relief as Hollywood's and Wolfman's parachutes opened.

That's when Stinger called Mav. Sixth MiG appeared. Four of them were on Iceman and Slider and they opened fire. Maverick was speeding through the air but he was still too far, while other planes weren't even ready to start.

Ice was truly brilliant avoiding every shot and making it look like a dance. Maverick was close. It was his turn but the situation looked like hell.

"Maverick! How about a little help?" He never heard Ice sound so desperate. Not even in bed. They fell into the enemy's jet wash and spun around. Maverick gripped the handle for dear life in fear of repeating the situation that took Goose away from them all… Or maybe it was his turn now…? Maybe… Maybe it was, but hell! He still had Merlin on board and he wouldn't let him die. He regained control over the plane.

"Ok Mav, let's go and help Ice! Engage!" Merlin urged from behind him. Sweat was pouring down Pete's face. It was bad. It looked like a suicide. If he went there he would have another dead RIO on his conscious.

"No, it doesn't look good…" Sider couldn't believe Maverick's words.

"SHIT! Maverick isn't engaging!"

"I knew it!" Ice fucking knew it. They would all die now, because Mitchell was send there too soon!

"MAVERICK!" Merlin tried to be the voice of reason. "Come on, Maverick! We can't leave him! Maverick! SHIT! Ice is in trouble! He's got no cover!"

He squeezed the dog tags just a little bit tighter and whispered: "Talk to me Goose…."

And what would Goose say?  _Move your ass, Mav, and help those pussies! Great balls of fire!_  Gods, he really was stupid, wasn't he? Of course Goose would fly without him. He didn't start to fly for Goose either, not even for his father. Just for himself! And Goose would surely kick his ass for all the drama he was playing out in front of the whole Fightertown. Damn, he was such a looser without Goose to mend his stupidity…

It took only few seconds to shot down the first MiG but another one was already openining fire at Ice. Maverick was there in an instant.

From there it was like walk in the park!

Albeit one very fucked up park, but still…

And at some point it was Merlin, scared to death, begging Maverick to stay away and Maverick swearing that he would never leave his wingman – even if it meant that his RIO dies form a heart attack.

Tom took another MiG but soon after he got hit.

NO! Not Iceman! Maverick shot - but missed. Damn Kazansky should've teach him better to not let emotions take over. He calmed down and the next missile made a beautiful blast! The third one was down.

"MAV! MOVE!" Ice sounded strangely desperate again. "There's a MiG on your tail! There's a MiG on your tail!"

"Well, we've got a problem here. We've only got ONE missile left." Was Pete's answer.

The MiG was still behind them and it was getting harder and harder to avoid getting hit. Merlin was thrashing around the cockpit and looked like he was ready to jump off!

"What are you doing, Mav!? YOU'RE SLOWING DWN!"

"I'm bringing him closer, Merlin." No worries...

" WHAT ? ! ! ! !"

Meriln was seeing his whole life in front of his eyes, analyzing his life's choices, and so far getting into that plain with Maverick was his worst one! And then they were suddenly behind the MiG, insetad in front of him, and they were shooting.

"Wooooooo! Splash four!" Maverick was ecstatic! Merlin… well… still breathing and able to talk: "Mustang, this is VooDoo 3, remaining MiGs are bugging out."

It was glorious.

"Mustang, this is Maverick requesting fly by!"

"Negative, Ghost Rider, you're too close…."

Right...

After they landed Woolfman jumped him right away, but there were others, hugging him, and laughing.

And there was Ice… And he was the only one kissing.

He had his Maverick back and that was all that mattered. They would deal with other stuff later, one at a time, but together. Together they could take down anything. They could kick asses of six MiGs with just two F14… They were TOP!

...

"Maverick!" Stinger took the cigar out of his mouth and handed him a rumpled paper.

"Sir?"

"How does it feel to be on the front page of every newspaper in English speaking world?! Even if the other side denies everything – Congratulations, kid."

"Thank you, sir." He was packing his stuff. Iceman was already waiting for him on the deck. They were going back to Miramar to wait there for their next assignments.

"They gave you free choice of duty, son! Anything. Anywhere. Do you believe that shit? Anywhere you wanna go?" Tom wanted to be an instructor, and Maverick thought it was a great idea. He would be a brilliant teacher, teaching youngsters 'the right things'. If Pete ever got a chance to teach at Top Gun he wouldn't hesitate. But Ice wanted to wait, discuss options and plan for the future. He refused to make any moves without truthfully discussing it with Pete. Maverick wasn't good at planning but brilliant at jumping into occasions, so… now they could choose THAT together!

"I thought of being an instructor, Sir."

"TOP GUN?"

"Yes Sir."

"God help us….."

**Marine Corps Air Station Miramar - April 13, 2001**

Maverick was looking at the sun setting over the air strip and enjoyed the sound of jets' engines.

"Hey Mav, what the fuck are you still doing here? Sulking for having your sexy ass kicked by a kid?"

Maverick smiled at Ice. Fucking bastard looked so much hotter now! He got that look sometime after he turned thirty… Now at his 36 he was sex on legs… It made Mav shiver to just think about him waiting patiently in their home, cooking dinner. They were still perfect together. Maybe Maverick grew up a little but Iceman also loosened up a bit so… The balance was kept.

Ice came closer and ravished maverick's lips. Damn, he loved that hot headed idiot so much it was crazy. Every 8 weeks he had to glare to death 20 new students checking Maverick out. It was exhausting… but still worth the trouble.

"I wasnt sulking, you asshole. I'm gloating."

"Little Bradshaw is really something, isn't he?"

"Yea… He's… Fuck, he's much better than Goose could ever be, you know…?"

"I know. Poor Goose probably turns in his grave seeing who is his kid's role model."

Maverick just laughed. In the last sixteen years of his teaching in Top Gun no student had ever gotten a single shot on him. NEVER.

Until now.

Nick's son was something else. He was brilliant. He was the best. Goose (the 2nd) was their future.

"Now I feel nostalgic." Iceman's smirk was so damn sexy. It almost made Mav loose his footing.

"Because the next generation steps ahead of us?"

"Fuck no! They're not better than me! Just better than you, you weakling! But, no. I was thinking about all the good memories I've got about the… sunsets here… in exactly this very place."

Maverick chuckled but blushed anyway.

"Sunsets, huh?"

They haven't done it in here for years, but… since they caught the sunset now it would be a waste not to have that simple joy of _playing with a boy._

**THE END**

Thank you for reading.


End file.
